


Looking For A Soft Place To Fall

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Avoidy!Elle, Emotional Discomfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows she's making a mistake, and that if she doesn't correct it soon she won't be able to fix it at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking For A Soft Place To Fall

_You're being a chickenshit._

**I know that, but thanks for reminding me.**

_So why don't you stop doing it, then?_

**Oh, shut up and leave me alone.**

That was the sum of the conversation Elle had been having with herself since she'd last seen Reid, and every time it started up again the volume of it got a little louder. She knew she was being extremely unfair, and on top of that she was violating the trust Spencer had put in her not to hurt him. She'd been screening her calls since a week after she returned from Washington, and to torture herself she replayed his messages over and over again, pushing the knife in deeper. But she didn't return his calls, and she didn't return his calls because she had no Goddamned idea of what to say. 

'I was careless. We were careless. I don't know how to tell you, but I'm scared shitless that if I don't you'll decide I just stopped caring.'

This was not how she usually handled things, and she was angry at herself over the indecisiveness. Taking the bull by the proverbial horns was much more her style, and that was what had made her decide to get involved with Spencer in the first place. She'd wanted him, and she'd gone after him and gotten him, with his eager participation. But they had never discussed the future, not specifically and not in detail. Living so far apart meant taking things as they came along, being together when they could. Elle made a frustrated noise, rolled over onto her left side, trying to get comfortable so she could go to sleep. Not that that would help. Slumber was only an escape, not a solution. It was four a.m. There had been no new voice mails when she got home.

_You at least owe him an explanation._

**I know.**

_Would you rather he think you stopped loving him?_

**No, for Christ's sake.**

_Then get off your ass and do what you know you want to do. He means enough to you that you're chewing yourself up inside over this, so do both him and yourself a favor._

And why did the little voice in her head have to sound _exactly_ like Aaron Hotchner? It was kind of a stretch to imagine Hotch saying 'ass' for any reason, but it wasn't an impossible stretch. The former profiler rolled onto her back. The worst thing was, Aaron might have actually understood, and God knew she didn't feel comfortable telling her circle of friends here. They didn't know Reid, and because they didn't know Reid they wouldn't know what to say. Elle cursed in a low voice, then swore again, in a louder voice this time. In the hallway, the dog whined, and the brunette heard her get up and come into the room, the ID tag on her collar jingling. She stretched an arm down towards the floor, felt a damp nose brush against her palm. 

Elle looked at the clock, and it was four-thirty-seven. Her dreams over the last week or two had been heavily laced with images of Spencer's face, and it was probably her imagination that she could smell him on the sheets because she'd changed them the day before yesterday. She was doing him a terrible disservice and she knew it. Her guilt was burning a hole through her. 

At ten til five, she kicked the covers aside and got out of bed. Maxie moved when she started towards the bathroom. The arrival of warmer weather meant that the sun was coming up earlier now, and she didn't know if she could face another day at work with this weighing on her. God knew what Spencer was thinking lately, other than that she was the worst girlfriend ever. The brunette turned on the bathroom light, squinted against the glare. She braced her hands on the edges of the sink, looked at herself in the mirror. 

"You suck." 

Great, now she was talking to herself. On the other hand, that might be better than having invisible Hotch crouched in a corner of her brain. Elle splashed some water on her face. Her watch was on the counter next to the sink, and when she looked at it she saw that it was one minute past five. It had been a month since she had seen Spencer, let him touch her, kiss her, hold her. He was probably furious with her, _livid_ , and he had a right to be. She pushed off from the counter, padded over the cool floor back into her room. If she packed a bag in a hurry, she could call the dog sitter about tending to Maxie for a few days, then call either Sarah or Ruth about filling in for her at the store. The drive to Santa Fe would take a little over and hour and a half, and from there she could catch the first flight that was available. She should have done this already anyway. 

>She'd do it now, if he'd let her. Before she started acting like a chickenshit again. 


End file.
